


And I'm on my knees looking for the answer

by Notabeautifullittlefool



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: 3x15-3x17 fic, F/F, Heavy Angst, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:47:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24328261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Notabeautifullittlefool/pseuds/Notabeautifullittlefool
Summary: “You are wonderful, and I...I’ve never been this happy in my life.”“But, this doesn't look happy.”“Look, I don't deserve you.”“Yes, Sara, yes you do!”“No, Ava, I don't! You deserve so much better. And I care about you, but I’m not gonna do this. I won’t.”“Sara-”“I’m sorry.”Ava-centric introspection from episode 3x15 through 3x17 following her thoughts and feelings in the events that happen.Be warned: this is not a happy fic.
Relationships: Sara Lance/Ava Sharpe
Comments: 2
Kudos: 30





	And I'm on my knees looking for the answer

_“You are wonderful, and I...I’ve never been this happy in my life.”_

_“But, this doesn't look happy.”_

_“Look, I don't deserve you.”_

_“Yes, Sara, yes you do!”_

_“No, Ava, I don't! You deserve so much better. And I care about you, but I’m not gonna do this. I won’t.”_

_“Sara-”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

  
  
  


The conversation keeps replaying in Ava’s head, over and over again. From the way Sara’s voice breaks when she claims she’s never been this happy to the way she wouldn’t even look at Ava when she portals out of the room, every detail has seared itself into Ava’s mind. And not one of them will stop their constant assault of her memory. 

That last conversation, Sara giving up on her, haunts her. It’s on her mind as she lays awake that first night, unable to sleep in a room that sounds too quiet, in a bed that feels too empty. She lays awake, staring at the ceiling. The silence is overwhelming- she hears the absence of Sara’s breath next to her, the little noises that come from sharing a bed with someone. Exhausted as she is, she can’t fall asleep all night. Everytime she manages to come close, her hand drifts too close to the other side of the bed- to Sara’s side of the bed- and finds it empty, and she’s confronted with her reality again. 

It’s easier to just stay awake in the end. 

  
  
  


Sara’s voice in her head runs on loop as she stays in bed. The lights in her apartment stay off, her phone stays off, and Ava keeps herself wrapped in her bedding, clutching the pillow that still smells like Sara, as she cries. Nothing can drown it out, the way Sara keeps telling her over and over that she’s through, so Ava gives in. 

The first time, Sara’s words had hit like physical blows, leaving a bruise on Ava’s heart so deep, so purple and swollen and tender, she thinks it can’t possible heal. 

Hearing them over and over again in her mind feels like she’s pressing on that bruise repeatedly, new jolts of pain running through her every time, reminding her of the injury and how badly it had hurt. Ava knows she should stop- wants to stop- but part of her, a small part buried deep, takes a sick pleasure in it, in reminding herself she’s not good enough, in forcing herself to relive the pain. Because maybe this is all she gets with Sara, with someone she loves-though she never told her, it was far too soon- and as long as it still hurts, she knows she can still feel something. And maybe part of her thinks she deserves it. 

  
  
  
  


It’s there when she finally gets out of bed two days later, numb and hoarse and unable to be around anything that reminds her of Sara, and pulls out a bag; as she packs a suitcase and decides to book a flight and take a few of her accumulated vacation days. _More like running away_ taunts the voice in the back of her mind. 

She ignores it and continues packing.

  
  
  


It’s there when she ends up in Vegas, standing in front of her ex’s apartment door but can’t bring herself to knock. She should have called, was going to call, but the idea of explaining what happened was too horrific, and so she found herself in Vegas instead. The mental chorus of Sara’s voice is too loud as “I care about you, but I’m not gonna do this,” repeats to the point where Ava’s vision is blurred with tears, leaving her grasping for her suitcase as she runs down the hall and around the corner where she inputs the coordinates for her apartment into her time courier with shaking fingers. 

She stays in the guest room for the rest of the week. 

  
  
  
  


It gets worse when she runs into Sara at the Bureau. Sara looks good, as always, but what surprises and hurts Ava the most is that she looks so...unaffected. As if the last week was the same as any other, and seeing Ava in front of her is no different than seeing anyone else. Ava knows she looks utterly wrecked, even now. The sunglasses she’s wearing are her attempt to hide the smudged makeup and red-rimmed eyes from the tears that won’t seem to stop flowing no matter how hard she tries. 

She can barely hear anything Sara, Gary, or Ray are saying over Sara’s voice in her mind. “ _I’m not gonna do this. I won’t.”_ Ava tries to read their lips and answers confidently based on what she can gather they’re saying. But her eyes and her mind are drawn back to Sara each time, and still she only hears those words. _“I’m not gonna do this. I won’t.”_

Her hair is back up in its former bun and the feeling of pins at the base of her neck act as a reminder of the emotional armor she’s trying to piece back together. The walls she is now frantically throwing up around herself that Sara had broken down. 

But Sara is wholly unchanged. 

And seeing this, realizing this, is the catalyst Ava needs to stop wallowing in her own pain. That mental conversation that’s been echoing since Sara broke her heart hasn’t quieted. But the bruise on her heart doesn’t hurt as much anymore when she hears Sara’s words in her mind. At least, she tells herself it doesn’t, and that’s essentially the same. 

Right?

  
  
  
  
  
  


Chasing down her assistant and her ex-girlfriend was not what she planned for the day when she came into work that morning. She barely has enough strength to get through a typical day. And yet, here she is, trying to locate a spare time courier to hunt down the stolen Mothership as hers has mysteriously gone missing. How convenient. Ava arrives in 2213 determined to give Gary, Ray, and Sara a piece of her mind. Especially Sara. All her feelings are channeled into professional- _and_ , she thinks, _maybe some not quite so professional_ \- anger. 

Which is why coming to on the floor with Gary breathing in her face is a shock considering she doesn’t remember falling in the first place. Almost as much of a shock as confessing to her ex that she made an UpSwipez account so the guilt would stop devouring her. 

  
  
  
  


But the biggest shock is finding out she’s one of _them_ . A clone. Manufactured in a lab and exactly the same as the security army standing between them and the exit. Even staring at a crowd of faces identical to her own she can’t process the explanation. It’s too science fiction, too bizarre. _Please_ , she thinks as she looks between Sara, Gary, and Ray, her face lingering on Sara’s, _please tell me this is a joke. A prank of some sort. Please. This can’t be true. I can’t be one of those….things._

Ava looks between the expressionless clones and Sara, Ray, and Gary, and feels her stomach roil from the pity she sees in their eyes. _They wouldn’t look at me like that, not unless it was true. But it can’t be true. I have memories, I have parents, I have_ **_feelings!_ **

_There has to have been some sort of mistake. I can’t be a c- I’m not one of those things._

_It’s a mistake. They’re wrong._

_They have to be wrong._

_Please, someone tell me you’re wrong._

  
  


“I don’t understand,” she says as she stares at the sea of her own faces across the room. “You’re saying I’m one of them?” Her voice is laced with disbelief, but the pain beneath it is raw and rooted in the slightest degree of acceptance. Sara tries to calm her down, tries to talk her down from the ledge she’s standing on with reassurances that her past doesn’t make her who she is now, but if Ava’s taken anything away from being left behind by Sara it’s that your past will always matter. 

  
  


“Sara my life, my memories, they’re all manufactured. They’re not real, I’m not even real!” Ava’s voice grows more overwrought and anxious with every word as that realization sinks in. Her mind is a tempest. Her thoughts careen in every direction, and it’s all Ava can do to stay upright, struck over and over with the same ones: _Oh my god. I’m not real. I’m just a thing- not even a person. I’m not real._

The room around her spins as her breathing hastens. Nothing is stable or steady, least of all Ava, and she’s spinning out of control until-

“Ava,” Sara says, grabbing Ava’s shoulders, forcing her attention out of her impending panic attack and back onto her, “You are real. You are as real as I feel about you.” 

Her heart skips a beat, and all she can feel when it beats again is the bruise. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Ava doesn’t process anything that happens after that. Everything around her sounds like static, just white noise without any discernible meaning. 

Sara continues talking. Ava watches her face, trying to make out what she’s saying, but really she’s only going through the motions. She’s stuck on those words from seconds ago. “You are as real as I feel about you.” Over and over she hears them. “You are as real as I feel about you. You are as real as I feel about you. You are as real as I feel about you.” Each word sinks down through her stomach like a rock. 

In her mind, Sara’s two assertions crash together in her mind, fractured thoughts and splintered meanings spinning around and meeting each other, leading to the realization she knew was coming the moment she saw her face staring back at her from across the room twenty times over.

  
  


_I’m not real._

  
  


Except for a shaky breath, Ava doesn’t react physically. She carries on, mentally shutting away the rising panic for a more appropriate time and place, making herself completely numb and keeps pushing through on muscle memory and instinct alone. _Like autopilot…_ she thinks, and she’s vaguely aware of the rising nausea she feels, the way her throat feels like it’s closing and she can’t get quite enough air no matter how deeply she breathes. But the focus now is getting everyone- getting Sara- out of this nightmare and back to the Waverider safely. She’s always been able to lock away her emotions and prioritize the good of the mission. 

Why should this be any different? 

She finishes the mission without betraying any more indication of how she’s handling the revelation. In the presence of the Legends, she is composed and stoic, almost to the degree she was when they first met. Sara continually tries to catch her eyes, but Ava steadfastly refuses to hold any eye contact. 

Meanwhile, she’s struggling to understand anything said to or around her. All she can hear is her pulse rushing in her ears, the elevated rhythm of her heartbeat pounding a constant reminder inside her head. 

_Not Real._

_Not Real._

_Not Real._

_Not Real._

  
  
  
  


Ava leaves the Legends behind with the excuse she needs to use the bathroom and promptly portals into her bedroom as soon as she walks out of their sight. The portal isn’t even fully closed behind her when she collapses onto her floor, too exhausted to hold back the flood of emotions for a second longer. 

The tears stream down her face as she tries to take a deep breath, but it’s not enough. She’s breathing as deeply as she can, but she’s not getting enough air. Panic claws at her throat and the nausea leaves her reeling as she hyperventilates. Her mind is racing, thoughts moving too quickly to fully process, to really dissect and understand. But those fragments are enough. 

_“I care about you, but I’m not gonna do this. I won’t.”_

_“You are as real as I feel about you.”_

  
  


She puts together the true meaning quickly enough:

_You may be real, but you’re not real_ **_enough._ **

  
  
  
  


According to her watch, she’s been gone from the Waverider for nearly an hour and a half. Her mouth is dry, her body feels weighed down by exhaustion, and she knows her makeup is ruined, so she takes a few minutes to address everything before re-pinning her bun and opening a portal back onto the ship, 5 minutes after she left it. No one comments on her absence or on the way her eyes are still red-rimmed and she has suddenly lost most of her mascara. _With the way no one even turned when I came back in the room, they probably didn’t even notice._

  
  
  


Ava goes through the rest of the afternoon feeling completely numb and somehow still on the near edge of tears. Her fingernails bite into her palm, grounding her, pulling her focus to something physical, as she keeps herself from running away the second they end their final meeting. She is desperate to get out of here, to get away from the Legends, away from _Sara_ , and as she turns the corner and her fingers move to her wrist, she can feel the panic rising up again, and she’s so close to being able to break down, until suddenly she’s not. 

Sara grabs her by the wrist, demanding her attention and making the escape that seconds ago seemed certain all but impossible. And it hurts to look at her, a physical ache there in the center of her chest, but where else can Ava look when Sara Lance is right in front of her? 

But her thoughts are still louder than everything around her. _I may be real, but I’m not real_ **_enough._ **

_Not real_ **_enough._ **

_Not real_ **_enough._ **

And Ava is drowning. Her mind is relentless, not letting her breathe for a second, not letting her focus be pulled by anything around her. Which is why the kiss catches her so off guard. Suddenly Sara’s lips are pressing against hers, soft and gentle, almost careful, as if she is afraid Ava might break. 

And for that one second, her thoughts go still. For that one, blissful moment, she lets herself be swept up in the feeling of being kissed by Sara again. 

But the moment ends. 

  
  
  


“What are you doing?” Sara’s hands both still cup Ava’s cheeks, keeping her softly in place. 

“I’m admitting something that could save us both.” Sara looks up at Ava. The corners of her lips twitch upwards slightly and the look she gives Ava is almost hopeful. Her voice drops slightly, and when she speaks, it’s barely louder than a whisper. “I love you.” 

  
  


Her newly realized identity, the maelstrom of thoughts she couldn’t tame, and her own as yet undealt with feelings over the last week of her life seemed to slam into Ava all at once with the force of a freight train, making her stumble and wince slightly at the almost physical sensation. 

As she stares into Sara’s eyes, echoes of the same familiar thoughts crash over her. 

_She doesn’t want me._

_She walked away._

_How am I different from a plant at the store? Alive, but not a person, and easily replaceable once it dies. That’s the whole point of me, to be replaceable._

_She didn’t want to hurt me, but now she can replace me any time if she does._

_“I care about you, but I’m not gonna do this. I won’t.”_

_“You are as real as I feel about you.”_

_I’m not real_ **_enough._ **

_I’ll never be real_ **_enough_ ** _._

_How could she ever love me if I’m not real?_

  
  
  


_How could I ever truly love her?_

  
  
  
  
  


“There is no me to love.” 

Ava backs away from Sara slowly, eyes drinking her in for the last time, before she turns around and walks forward through the portal and closes it behind her.

  
  


Pushing on the bruise on her heart once again, she doesn’t let herself look back at what she is leaving behind. 

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea a while ago, so I decided to write it out and see what happened. It's the first one like this that I've done, in this type of style. I'm still not satisfied with how it's turned out, but that's alright I suppose. All the dialogue is from the episodes, so it's not mine. 
> 
> Title from "Human" by The Killers
> 
> Sorry for the heavy angst, especially in light of this past episode! 
> 
> Come find me on twitter, as always @chanandaler94


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